Better
by Rainbow Dust
Summary: It wasn't that Sirius didn't like girls, he just liked *him* better. Written as a birthday gift to xNomii! Slash-ness!


A/N: To my precious Naomi, whose birthday it is today (November 28th) I told her that I wouldn't have the time to write her a gift, I LIED. I had already started when I said I wouldn't *evil laughs*

Note that this is my first time writing slash-ness, I've never written anything like this before, there for it may be bad and short - well I KNOW its short, but forgive me :P

Happy Birthday my amazing SheepNay, I love you soo much and hope you have the bestest day!

Love Sig.

* * *

><p>~ Better ~<p>

It wasn't that Sirius didn't like girls.

It wasn't that they didn't like him.

He knew he had had his (and may other men's) fair share of beautiful girls, and he at most times enjoyed them.

But there was just something _wrong_ about them.

When he ran his hands over their bodies - their bodies were too curvy, whilst _his_ was flatter and strongly built; girls were too... _fragile_.

Their skin was way too smooth, whilst _his_ was hard, rugged and red where scars patterned, contusions that would never fully heal.

Their arms were weak, soft and smooth; _his_ were muscular, strong and hard. He maybe didn't look like it but after years of going through what he did and fighting against it, he had grown into quite the robust young man, masking himself beneath shabby clothes and hiding away his beauty.

Their hair was too long, too soft, reeking of products; _his_ was natural - the perfect amount of soft and smooth with _his_ own natural smell.

Their faces were powdered and painted to hide what they thought were blemishes, while _he_ never hid his beauty; he had other secrets to hide.

So Sirius kept himself far away whilst at the same time staying way too close.

He knew he'd never come to terms with watching _his_ Remus just be his friend, so maybe he used them - all of the girls - just a _little_ bit and maybe he let them use him too.

It wasn't really _bad,_ it was just never _right_.

Because sometimes just accidentally _touching_ Remus' hand felt much better than trailing his hands after the naked _female_ flesh.

Because somehow everything with Remus was better than with the faceless and nameless pretty girls, even though Sirius knew he was to stay with them.

Even though he would never want to.

He wanted so badly to just push them all away and pull _him _in instead.

But he didn't.

Remus had his secrets to hide and Sirius had his own.

The only difference was that Remus shared his with Sirius while Sirius kept his close to his heart - the heart that wasn't even his own anymore, it was always going to be _his_.

But Sirius wasn't the only one that knew his dirty little secret; even though Peter, James and Remus were oblivious to it, someone else hadn't been.

Sirius knew this because he noticed how Regulus looked between himself and Remus, how Regulus' usual smirk turned into somewhat of a smile - sometimes he would even raise his eyebrows or nod suggestively in Remus' direction and Sirius would have to restrain himself from snapping the head off of his brother's body.

But he always managed - he managed to shake it off by trying to prove to his brother he was wrong.

That was how his 'obsession' with the girls all started.

He wasn't used to having to hide behind something, having to hide from the real Sirius because he was supposed to be so strong - so arrogant and so strong - the _strongest_.

But getting all those girls had just been far too easy - they had practically fallen at his feet.

It was just too easy for him to take advantage of that fact, and he did.

But he would always have to live with the feeling of guilt and how _wrong _it felt.

And he let himself believe it was hurt in Remus' eyes he saw, not disappointment when the brunette boy saw him with the girl of the week.

He sometimes let himself believe that Remus wanted him too.

He let himself believe that the girl in front of him was Remus.

He let himself believe that her hair was honey brown.

He let himself believe that her eyes were faded blue.

He let himself believe that her body wasn't curvy.

He let himself believe that her skin wasn't so soft.

He let himself believe that her hands were _his _hands.

And while that moment lasted, it almost felt just _right_.


End file.
